


Tonight, I’m Just a Man in a Bar

by TheGreenMeridian



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: AU, Don’t copy to another site, First Time, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Period Typical Homophobia, Pre Canon, Sexual Repression, absolute filth, young!valoris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 07:44:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20287906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenMeridian/pseuds/TheGreenMeridian
Summary: Two men meet in a Moscow hotel bar, and what happens next is out of their control.





	Tonight, I’m Just a Man in a Bar

**Author's Note:**

> It’s finally finished! Thank you all for your patience! I was quite nervous about posting this, it’s the most ambition thing I’ve done so far, and I really hope it lives up to expectations.

He sat in the bar of his hotel, sipping his cognac and glancing around at other patrons. He had been in meetings in the Kremlin all day and he would be back in Tyumen on Saturday, but for now he was free to relax. No responsibilities weighing him down, no career goals to dedicate himself to, nobody to order around. Just a ordinary man having a quiet drink and enjoying his own company. It was a luxury he rarely got, and he intended to savour it. Other men in his position would use the opportunity to meet a woman for the evening but it had never been something he’d felt the urge to do. Perhaps when he was younger, still just a soldier, he might have... no, it wasn’t worth thinking about what couldn’t be. He was happy enough in his own company.

He heard laughter from the entrance, young and uninhibited, the kind of laughter he had seldom heard from himself in the last two decades, and turned towards it, smiling at the memory of being that carefree. Students, by his guess, seven of them, all in their early twenties. Six of them seemed close, comfortable in each other’s company, but one was standing back from the group a little, trailing after them with fidgeting hands and a shy smile as they found a table. He looked up as he sat down, and Boris caught his first real view of the man’s face.

All sound fell away, there was nothing but the blood rushing in his ears and his own shuddering breath. The man was... beautiful. Utterly beautiful, albeit unconventionally so. Freckles decorated his pale skin, sweeping across his face and trailing down his neck. A lock of strawberry blond hair had fallen onto his forehead, blocked from falling into his eyes by the frames of his glasses, the untidiness suiting him. He looked uncomfortable in his own body, like a young man who’d developed most of his height rapidly in the latter years of his teens without giving him time to adjust.

Sweat gathered on Boris’ palms, and he placed his glass on the bar for fear of losing his grip. There was no reason for it, no justification to the degree with which he was enthralled by this man, and yet he couldn’t look away. He’d seen countless young men in his life, men far more attractive. Men who inhabited their bodies with swagger and confidence, men not hidden behind thick lenses, men who did not have gaps between their front teeth to absentmindedly tease with the tips of their tongues. And none of them had had such an intense effect on him.

He drank the rest of his cognac in a single gulp and hurriedly ordered a vodka. This wasn’t who he was anymore, he’d left that iteration of himself at university decades before. He’d learned to live without this part of himself, for the sake of his life and his career. Marriage had come about at an appropriate time and though neither he nor his wife had ever really considered themselves in love, they were happy enough. He even made love to her occasionally, albeit mechanically. Just frequently enough to satiate his needs. He willingly turned a blind eye to her going outside the marriage to satiate her own. His one concession to that forbidden side of himself was indulging in thoughts of his youth when he masturbated or when he had sex with her, letting himself remember how it felt to have muscled flesh and soft body hair beneath his hands. But he was happy, in his own way. Besides, the State’s needs superseded his own, and he was nothing if not a proud Party man. He simply didn’t have these urges anymore.

And yet now, presented with this student... he could think of nothing but once again feeling the texture of sweat slicked skin against his own, letting his fingers become tangled in red-tinged hair, watching the awkwardness and discomfort slip away from the student’s face and become replaced with trembling ecstasy.

He swallowed, his mouth uncomfortably dry. He had to look away, the young man would surely notice him staring and he knew his desire was plain on his face. Back to facing the bar, back to his drink. Back to his quiet solitude. He knew staying here wasn’t an option. He should finish his drink, return to his room alone. Deal with his shameful desires in privacy and hope he regains control over himself by morning. That his ring that now resided in his pocket was something he chose not to analyse.

Ten minutes slipped by, fifteen. The vodka had gone, replaced by another cognac. Still he sat, cursing his own recalcitrance at leaving. He pulled cigarette from his pack, needing one to settle his nerves, and began searching his pockets for a lighter. It quickly became clear he’d lost it. He sighed, removing the unlit cigarette from his lips. He would have taken that as a cue to leave, were it not for the bright flame that appeared in front of his face. The cigarette was lit, and He inhaled a deep lungful of the calming smoke, exhaling a cloud of it that hung around him like mist.

“Thank you, Comrade,” he said, turning to look at his benefactor.

His world plummeted into insanity again. The young man, standing scant centimetres from him, plump lips wrapped sinfully around a cigarette. The man inhaled, acne scarred cheeks hollowing, closing freckled eyelids in an expression of satisfaction.

“You’re welcome, Comrade. May I... May I ask your name?”

“Shcherbina. Boris Evdokimovich.” The words seemed to come from somewhere else, completely free from his control.

“Legasov. Valery Alexeyevich.”

Valery. His name was Valery. Oh, how easily it would fall from his lips in pleasure. How much like a prayer his own would sound from Valery’s if he were gasping it beneath him.

“May I sit here for a while? I’m with some classmates but.... well, I don’t much like being in loud groups.” 

Boris gestured to the seat next to him and waved at the bartender to give the man a drink, barely preventing a moan as Valery’s bare forearm slid against his own as he climbed onto the stool, light blond hairs like silk against his skin.. 

“Thank you, you’re very kind,” Valery said, sipping his drink, his delicate fingers playing with the rim of his glass. “Why are you here? In Moscow, I mean.”

Valery’s eyes were bright behind his glasses, studying him as though he could see into his soul. Boris coughed and took a fortifying swig of his cognac . “I’m a Party official. I had, have, meetings at the Kremlin.”

“Oh... right, well...” Valera said, eyes dropping to his glass. Boris could see a restless panic building in the younger man, and placed a hand on his arm for a brief moment. Valery’s eyes darted to the point of contact and he swallowed.

“But tonight, I’m just a man in a bar. A nobody. Stay, Valery Alexeyevich. Please.”

The younger man looked up at him, a shy smile on his face. “I would like that, Boris Evdokimovich.”

Boris’ heart was beating rapidly now, a shameful erection swelling between his legs. He should have let the man walk away in fear. Allowed himself to be left to his sad fantasies. Not this, this... encouragement. This tacit acknowledgment of the tension building between them.

Valery ran a nervous hand through his hair, a flush creeping slowly up his neck. Boris followed it, the hollow of Valery’s neck calling at him to suck and bite. A dam had burst, two decades of repression flooding through his body, a deluge of forgotten lust and need battering his self control without relent.

There was no doubt in his mind that he could have this man, were he to let himself. He knew the look in Valery’s eyes. Curiosity and desire amidst caution. He’d seen it before. Worn it himself often enough, when he was Valery’s age. Valery’s panicked reaction to Boris’ career was ample confirmation.

“And you, Valery. What do you do?”

“I’m a student. At the Mendeleev Institute, actually.”

A look of pride appeared on the young man’s face and he had straightened from his natural slouch. It was a good look for him, Boris thought. As endearing as his awkward demeanour could be, seeing a little of what he imagined was the real Valery shining through was an interesting insight into the man. He motioned at him to continue.

“I’m studying physicochemistry, specialising in radioactive substances. It’s essentially concerned with how matter behaves on a molecular and subatomic level, how chemical reactions form, how substances form... well, it’s complicated to explain to a lay person.”

Boris raised an eyebrow. He was enjoying the enthusiasm evident in how animated Valery had become. He seemed confident, cocky even. Comfortable with himself. It was a fascinating departure from the shy, awkward young man he had become. Nonetheless, Boris couldn’t resist the impulse to tease him.

“A layman, Valery? Am I too much of a bureaucrat to understand anything so intellectual?”

“Oh! Oh, no, I didn’t mean...”

The flush on his face and the way his hands constantly moved with nervousness made Boris want to kiss him right there in the bar, consequences be damned.

“Relax, Valery!” he chuckled. “I’m teasing. Truthfully, I understood very little of what you said. Science was never my forte at school.”

Valery was pink under the dim bar lights, an embarrassed smile turning the corners of his lips. He drank some more of his cognac, slightly too much if the wince and poorly surpressed cough were any indication.

“How old are you?” Valery blurted. “Sorry, I just...”

“No, it’s alright. I’m 41. And you, Valery? How young are you?”

“24. In a few months. I’m not too young for...” 

The young man blanched as he realised what he had almost said, the slight panic returning to his posture again.

He was young, Boris thought to himself. Young enough that a tired old bureaucrat shouldn’t appeal to him like this. Yet, Valery had been the one to approach him, despite his obvious discomfort with social situations.

“No, Valery. I don’t think you are too young for anything,” he said softly, as much to himself as to Valery.

Valery caught his bottom lip between his teeth. Boris let his eyes move slowly, down his body, coming to rest at his lap. It was concealed by the bar, as much as he wished he could see if Valery were as affected as he was, but the meaning of it was clear as he flicked his eyes back to Valery’s own. I want you, it said. I am just like you, and I want you. Valery removed his glasses, and Boris saw his eyes unobstructed for the first time, the hunger in them impressive in its intensity.

“May I ask you something?”

Boris nodded, looking intently at the lingering redness on Valery’s lip from where his teeth had been.

“Well, I... to be honest, I noticed you... I think you were watching me earlier.”

“And if I were?”

“Then... then I would say that I’ve been watching you, too.” Valery fidgeted on his bar stool, but he held Boris’ gaze with stubborn determination nonetheless.

“Did you like watching me,” he said, voice husky and leaving absolutely no room for doubt of his intentions. Valery’s blush deepened.

“Yes... yes, very much. I still can’t look away.”

He couldn’t let himself take this path a moment longer. Of course he couldn’t. The door to that part of himself must stay firmly closed, he should go on with his life like he’d never seen Valery, return to his wife for mediocre sex in which he imagines freckled skin and reticent smiles and...

And he just couldn’t do it anymore.

The battle within himself was lost. It likely had been since Valery entered the bar. Every decision he had made from that point onwards had led to this moment. He was fully hard now, the seam of his trousers providing little relief in the way of pressure, and nothing would satisfy him now but this man.

He downed the last of his cognac, throwing his head back to better display the muscles of his throat, almost shivering at the soft “oh” he heard from Valery.

“507. Leave in an hour.”

He lingered just long enough to watch understanding appear on the young man’s face, then climbed from his stool, holding his jacket in such a manner as to hide the evidence of his anticipation as he made his way back to his room.

* * *

When the knock came he was already on his feet, and still more than half hard. He opened the door and let Valery enter, crowding the vestibule just enough to require Valery to brush past him. They stood staring intently at each other, sizing each other up like men before a fight. Valery’s eyes flicked down to his lips, and Boris felt the last remaining thread of his self control finally snap.

He slammed Valery into the wall, kissing him roughly, violently, nipping at his lips and plunging his tongue into his mouth. Valery stubbornly refused to passively submit to the brutality of Boris’ mouth, kissing him back with unexpected force and confidence. He pushed his slim hips forward, his erection colliding with Boris’ own.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Boris growled. “Do you have any idea how hard I was, sitting next to you, knowing you wanted me?”

Valery’s hands grasped his buttocks and pulled him closer, their erections colliding. “I was half hard before I sat down. God, I noticed you as soon I got to the bar, you looked so gorgeous,” he panted. “When I realised you were looking at me like that, fuck... I’ve never felt like that before.”

Boris kissed him again, tasting him, claiming him. Undone by the feeling of  man  against his body. He slipped a few of Valery’s shirt buttons open.

“Do you always approach strange men in bars, Valery? It can be dangerous.” 

He sucked at the slip of collarbone he had revealed, creamy skin dusted with light freckles, the sharp line of the bone salty with sweat and smooth against his tongue.

“No just... fuck... just you. I had to, I couldn’t stop myself. God, Boris...”

Boris bit Valery’s lower lip, his teeth grazing the swollen flesh. He cupped Valery through his trousers, thick and heavy, the heat of his need radiating through the fabric.

“So hard for me...” he whispered against Valery’s lips.

Valery’s head fell back against the wall with a soft thud, pushing himself into the waiting sanctuary of Boris’ hand. The tendons of his neck were taut and Boris scraped his teeth up the length one, sucking on the spot where it met the square edge of Valery’s jaw. Rough stubble scraped his lips, and he could feel Valery’s pulse, rapid with his arousal.

He stripped himself unceremoniously of his shirt and undid the remaining buttons that kept Valery’s body hidden from him. Wiry arms, peach coloured nipples, a soft belly under silken hair, freckles across all of it. He was divine, the favourite lover of a Greek emperor, an artist’s muse. 

Boris pressed their naked chests together and let himself be overcome with the feel of hot skin against his own, closing his eyes to better lose himself sensations. Valery groaned and held him close, gripping the muscles of back.

“What do you want, beautiful man?” Boris asked, breathing the smell of soap and cigarettes in Valery’s hair.

“Fuck, anything. Everything.”

Boris kissed his neck again. The soft skin, the emerging shadow of a ginger beard, the graceful bone structure... perfection, all of it. The slight indent of Valery’s waist fit neatly in his palm, and he let himself believe for a moment that this young man had been made for him, a bespoke lover for him alone to enjoy. 

Smooth ivory skin slid under his palm as he dragged his hand up Valery’s body, stroking a small, pert nipple with the rough pad of his thumb. The whine that came from Valery spurred him to take the other in his mouth, sucking it to a hard peak, tracing the grooves of his areola with his tongue. Valery grasped his head with both hands, pulling his hair and forcing his mouth against his chest. 

Valery was so expressive, so easy to read. Everything Boris did to him elicited a moan, a sigh, a needy whine. His body writhed and twitched, his breathing faltered, his eyes fluttered shut. He was sensuality, hedonism, decadence. Everything Boris had so carefully denied himself laid out before him like an offering to the gods.

He unbuttoned Valery’s trousers and slipped a hand into his briefs to grasp his dripping erection. He moaned around the nipple between his lips, squeezing Valery’s girth. He had forgotten quite how arousing it could be to feel the satin skin of another man’s hardness in his hand, how the glide of foreskin over a wet head felt beneath his palm.

“Oh fuck... Boris please,” Valery gasped desperately. Boris released his nipple and sank to his knees, shoving Valery’s trousers and briefs down his thighs. Bigger than he had expected, a swollen purple head leaking profusely, heavy balls tight against the base of him. Boris inhaled the delicious scent of masculine arousal, and dipped his tongue into Valery’s slit, tasting the bitterness of his need. Valery bucked helplessly, his pelvis quickly pinned against the wall by one of Boris’ strong arms. He held the thick base of Valery’s cock and licked at the edge of his foreskin, sliding under the lip of it ever so slightly. Valery’s legs were shaking, his thighs clenching and unclenching in time with his desperate gasping breaths.

God Boris had missed this. Taking a man apart with his mouth, tasting him, devouring him, watching him descend into a pleasure driven madness. He sucked the head into his mouth, cupping his tongue against the frenulum, and slowly made his way down the thick length until his lips rested against his steadying hand, and drew back equally slowly, beginning a deliberately tortuous rhythm.

“Boris... please, I need... fuck, I need to come!”

That’s what he was waiting for, that agonised begging, the knowledge that he had brought this young man to the point of pure need. He had not forgotten how utterly powerful he could feel on his knees, nor how given over to desire he became with the solid weight of a cock on his tongue. 

“Patience, Valery, he murmured against Valery’s wet flesh. “I’ll get you there, just let me take care of you.”

He sucked Valery deep, feeling the broad head of him nudge his throat. A breath, and he had taken him to the root, swallowing around him and fighting with out-of-practice muscles against the urge to choke. Valery’s hands came to rest on Boris’ head, gripping his short hair roughly between his slender fingers.

“Oh fuck, Boris... so good...” 

Boris released his hips. Valery cursed, fucking into Boris’ waiting mouth steadily, chasing the release Boris had so skilfully built within him. Boris’ eyes were watering, he could barely breathe but god, he had never felt so alive. Valery’s thrusts began to falter as his ability to remain standing started to slip, and Boris took control again, taking Valery into his raw throat, swallowing around the intrusion, tugging gently at Valery’s heavy testicles. Valery legs trembled, his cock swelled, and Boris’ mouth was filled with Valery’s release as he choked out his name. Boris swallowed it all eagerly, moaning around the sensitive organ as the familiar taste hit his tongue.

He suckled at Valery softly, dragging out the final remnants of his pleasure until Valery whimpered with oversensitivity. He guided Valery to the bed, laying him down carefully like he would a wounded animal and ridding him of the rest of his clothing. He stripped himself too, allowing himself one firm squeeze to the base of his cock to soothe the pain of his need.

He stood and admired the sight of the naked man draped limply across the hotel bed. Valery was panting still, his cock slowly softening against his thigh, his hair thick with sweat. He considered kneeling over the man and stroking himself until he left a mark of ownership streaked across his body. Valery would look so debauched, dripping with his seed. But he needed more. He would never let himself make a mistake like this again, what he did tonight would have to sustain him the rest of his life.

“I want to fuck you, Valery. Would you like that? Do you want me deep inside you?”

Valery propped himself up on his elbows and looked at him, eyes falling to the erection between Boris’ thick thighs.

“God... I’ve been thinking about it since I saw you. But I haven’t... I haven’t done it before.”

Boris gently removed Valery’s glasses, slid onto the bed and pulled him into a slow kiss, slowly thrusting his tongue into Valery’s mouth, a pale imitation of what he so terribly longed for.

“I’ll make you feel amazing, if you let me. Can you trust me?”

“Yes... yes, I want this. I want you.”

He drew him into a kiss, tender and exploratory. It was humbling, invigorating, knowing he was going to be the first to breach this body. Knowing Valery trusted him so deeply after such a short time. 

“Roll over for me, let me see you,” he murmured against Valery’s lips, and the younger man went quickly to his knees, firm buttocks in the air, his virgin hole exposed for the first time to another man.

Boris stroked the delicate skin of Valery’s arse reverently. Valery could be telling him what he thought he wanted to hear, but he doubted it. This man didn’t seem like one who would be good at lying. Boris would be this young man’s first. He would get to deflower him, to show him how good this could feel. A shiver of pleasure went through him, knowing what he was about to do. There was a pot of petroleum jelly in his bedside table and he retrieved it, letting his erection drag across Valery’s crack as he leaned over to open the draw. He caressed Valery’s lower back, soothing and affectionate.

“Relax for me, Valery. I’m going to make this so good for you, I promise. Are you ready?”

“I do... please, do it...”

Boris slicked his fingers and rubbed a little of the grease around Valery’s entrance. The muscles twitched and clenched beneath his fingers and he moaned softly as he watched. Steadying himself, he slowly pushed his index finger past the tight ring and let it sink in to the knuckle. Valery exclaimed softly, clenching slightly around him.

“Talk to me, tell me how it feels.”

“Oh! It feels strange... good, I think. Keep going, I’m ok.”

Boris slowly dragged his finger out of him again, pushing lightly against Valery’s walls, giving him a taste of what having his prostate simulated would feel like. A noise somewhere between a breath and a moan, muffled by the pillow. Again he pushed forward, letting Valery get used to the sensation of slowly being fucked by his thick finger.

“Keep talking to me, keep telling me how it feels.”

“God, Boris, so good. I feel... god, when you push into me, my... it feels so... fuck...”

“Mmm, and when I do this?”

Boris twisted his finger on the next withdrawal and Valery spasmed around it.

“Fuck, again, do that again.”

Boris chuckled at his eagerness. On the next push into Valery’s heat, his index finger was joined by a second, Valery’s hole looking stretched now.

“That’s it Valera, that’s it. You’re taking my fingers so well, look at you, opening up for me.”

He didn’t notice the diminutive slipping from his traitorous lips, he couldn’t think of anything but the sight of his fingers disappearing into the man beneath him, Valery’s muscles straining around them.

He kissed Valery’s rounded cheek, and pushed his fingers down towards the bed, fighting the resistance of the muscles and pressing firmly into the Valery’s prostate. 

“Fuck! Oh fuck, please, do that again!”

Another push, curling his fingers for a more targeted assault this time, and Valery’s legs went out from under him. He tugged him back onto his knees, his arm under Valery’s waist to support him, abdominal muscles quivering against him. Boris fucked him steadily, letting his fingers curl periodically and drowning in the desperate sobs it produced. Valery was loosening up more easily now, his body instinctively easing the way for Boris to continue pleasuring him.

“God, Boris... please, I’m ready!”

Oh, this beautiful young man, begging to be fucked by him. How could he deny him a moment longer? Valery’s hole grasped at his fingers as he slid them out, making it terribly hard to control himself as he slicked his cock with the grease. The impulse to just pump himself until he came was strong. He rested the head of his cock against Valery’s entrance and felt the ripple of muscles against it.

“Yes?”

“Fuck, please!”

With his hands on Valery’s hips to steady them both, he watched as the broad head of his cock was swallowed into the velvet heat of Valery’s channel, slowly pushing himself forward until Valery’s rim was stretched taut around the thickness of his base.

“Valera... tell me.” It was all he could force out, coherent speech lost to the crushing grip of Valery’s body.

“Oh fuck, you’re so... I’m so full, god, so full, I can’t... you’re too...” Valery gasped. “Hurts. Ah! Move, I need you to move.”

Again he found denying Valery to be impossible. He drew out, watching Valery’s rim drag against him, and let it pull him back in until his balls were flush against Valery’s. Slowly, steadily, he rocked into Valery, feeling his channel quiver around him, feeling his head become enclosed in the hot flesh of Valery’s depths. Valery panted beneath him, gradually beginning to rock back, chasing the feeling of being completely filled.

“So tight Valera, fuck...” he muttered, Valery’s muscles fluttering, grasping. “Are you... shit, tell me you feel good.”

“I... oh god Boris!”

“Tell me!” Boris grunted impatiently.

“Yesssss, don’t stop, please don’t stop! God, harder. Deeper. Anything, I need more!”

He was practically sobbing with need, and Boris wanted to watch him disintegrate. He pulled out, rolled him onto his back, and sunk into him again. He had to see that deceptively innocent face twisted in pleasure, had to see his stomach messy with his own release. He tugged Valery’s legs up until they were resting in the crooks of his elbows. He could get deeper now, impossibly deep, folding Valery practically in half. His cock couldn’t help but hit against Valery’s prostate with every thrust into him, and Valery was clawing at his arms in desperation.

“I’m so fucking deep in you. I want to come in you, fuck.”

Valery whimpered his agreement, his body clenching hard around Boris, and Boris knew that slow was no longer an option for either of them. He slammed into him, savage and animalistic, both grunting with the force of it. 

“Shit, I’m close. Pull yourself off for me, let me see you come,” he rasped. 

Valery’s grip on his cock was tight, his fist moving in time with the harsh rhythm of Boris’ thrusts. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips open in a pout. 

“Oh fuck... that’s it Valera. You’re taking me so well love, let... oh fuck... let me see you come, let me feel it,”

Valery keened, his back arched as much as it could in this position, and he began stroking himself frantically, haphazardly.

“Fuck, I’m- oh god, I’m so close, so close, it’s- ah! B-Boria!”

A guttural moan, deep and loud enough to send vibrations through Boris’ cock, followed by the impossible, unbearable tightness of his muscles clamping down around Boris and hot spurts of his release spraying across his stomach, his chest, the hollow of his throat that Boris had coveted so intently.

It was too much. Feeling and seeing him flying over the edge, hearing his name like  that  from those lips... he couldn’t bear it a moment longer. The maelstrom of pleasure that had been steadily building behind his cock unleashed it’s energy, and he was hit with wave after wave of it as he spilled into Valery. He heard himself choking out Valery’s name, felt Valery spasm around his cock as he ground down into him, and he could do nothing but surrender to his senses and let the pleasure wash over him.

When he had come back to himself enough to realise he still had Valery practically folded in half, he carefully let his legs drop and pulled his softening cock free. He glanced down to see his seed starting to trickle from the swollen rim of Valery’s hole, pushing it back in with his finger, causing Valery to give a weak moan at the sensation.

“Shh, it’s ok Valera, let me look after you.”

He rubbed gently at the abused muscle, soothing the certain ache he had caused, making sure he hadn’t done any damage in his enthusiasm. Occasionally he would push the fluid leaking from Valery back inside him, watching his face twitch every time. The idea of Valery staying full of his seed, holding it all inside himself, letting Boris keep filling and filling him... Christ, this man had unleashed such a filthy part of him.

After a while, and with much reluctance, he rose to fetch a warm, wet cloth and carefully cleaned them both, finally collapsing next to Valery with a groan. Comfortable silence fell as Valery’s hand found his own, and they lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

“Boris, I...” Valery started, squeezing his hand.

“It’s ok, Valera... Valery. It’s been a long time since I was last here, but I’m not unfamiliar with how these things go. You can leave. Take your time if you need it.”

It should have just been sex for Boris. Hell, it was just sex. Overwhelming, unimaginably perfect sex, more erotic than anything he had ever experienced or imagined. But still just sex. But still, a feeling of loss he knew was deeper than lust rose in him at the idea of Valery leaving.

“Can I stay?” Valery said softly, rolling to face him. “I think I’d like to stay... Boria.”

He rolled to his side too, and looked at the timid sincerity in the young man’s eyes. Valery too was feeling something more than lust, he knew. It was crazy for them to even consider indulging it. They could never be anything more than this, they both knew it. Men like them, they either lived and died alone, married women anyway, or ended up doing hard labor. They didn’t have encounters that lasted more than an hour or two, they didn’t develop feelings for each other, they certainly didn’t sleep in the same bed.

“You have nowhere to be tomorrow? Your friends won’t wonder where you are?”

“Nowhere. And I told them I was going home to sleep, they think I’m in my room.”

“No roommate?”

“Visiting family.”

Boris draped his arm over Valery’s waist, stroking the silky smooth skin there with his fingers.

“I have more meetings tomorrow. But... I would like it if you stayed tonight. And if you are free tomorrow evening...?”

“Just tell me when to arrive.”

The young man looked so earnest, so open. Boris’ throat felt tight.

“You know this can’t last, don’t you? I leave on Saturday and even if I didn’t...”

“I know,” Valery said with a sigh. “I know, this is all we get. That’s how the world is. But you... I...”

Valery’s eyes dropped to their joined hands and Boris felt a rising tightness in his chest threaten to overtake him, and Boris pulled him in for a kiss. Slow and sweet and full of emotions he was not prepared to name.

“We can have a few days, Valera. We can let ourselves have that.”

**Author's Note:**

> thegreenmeridian.tumblr.com


End file.
